


Apprentice

by songquake



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:59:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songquake/pseuds/songquake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie embarks on a new career path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apprentice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Daily Deviant, August (I think) 2011.
> 
>  **Kinks/Themes Chosen:** Dark Wizards, body writing, alternative pairing. One might be able to pretend this is an authority role-play, too (though more easily read as a straight *cough* scene between an authority figure and a subordinate).  
>  **Other Warnings:** Interpretation of the Erastes/eromenos trope, serious submission, magical bondage.
> 
> Some of the descriptions of Dark magic can be credited to Resonant's unbelievably evocative ones in her classic, [Transfigurations](http://archiveofourown.org/works/59676).

Naked and a little nervous, Charlie Weasley disrobed and knelt on the floor beside the stone slab in the centre of the stone room he'd entered. He sat on his feet with his thighs spread and reached behind himself to clasp his arms. The position was one he was taught during his first Apprenticeship—those many years ago at the Reserve—to show both his submission and his strength. 

He shivered at the memory; Master Jaroslav Svoboda had been kind but firm. Charlie was sure he couldn't _expect_ kindness from his Master in Dark Arts. Evil could not be expected to be kind. 

_Not evil, exactly,_ a voice in his head rationalised. _Forbidden, yes; powerful, yes. Dark? Oh_ fuck _, yes. But not quite evil. And having this as a second Mastery can only help..._

 _Oh,_ another voice, this one sarcastic, answered, _I reckon you're going to say this sort of magic is just misunderstood? You know that it's the power of it that you want. And you know full well that you may never want to leave this position..._

Charlie startled to attention at the echoing click of boots clicking crossing the floor. He felt his dragon tattoo slither over his shoulder to keep watch as his new Master circled him. 

"Interesting protector you have there, young Weasley," his new Master said, despite the fact that Charlie was a good seven years his senior in age. Here, that sort of thing didn't matter. 

The Master's voice, tenor and cool, was a surprise. Charlie knew him only by reputation (and what reputation the Malfoy family had among his family was mud, though Draco was renowned in certain _other_ circles), but he'd always thought of Dark Wizards as having either cold, high voices like the Dark Lord's or smooth, deep voices like Snape's. 

Charlie kept his eyes to the floor. 

"I'd heard from Master Svoboda that you trained particularly well under him and that I could begin teaching you principles and skills right away. I am pleased that, so far, you do not disappoint," the voice said. 

Charlie blushed with pride and pleasure at the compliments. Though he wished to thank Master Malfoy, he knew better than to speak before he was invited. 

Master Malfoy crouched a little, taking Charlie by the chin. Obediently, Charlie raised his eyes to meet those which gazed at him. 

He gasped; Master Malfoy's eyes were a lovely shade of grey, but streaks of red ran through them in a curlicue pattern. Charlie felt his nipples and cock begin to harden at the sight. He'd never personally witnessed such a level of Dark power; he'd never been so close to the Dark Lord, and hadn't even heard of others wielding such power in public. 

Master Malfoy smirked, stroked his cheek, and pulled back just a hair to let his magic caress Charlie instead. 

Charlie bit his lip, bit back his moan. _So responsive,_ he heard Master Malfoy's voice intone as it slid sensuously into his mind. He blinked with shock, and gasped again as that presence popped out his mind like a cock unexpectedly leaving his arse without. He widened his eyes, begging for the intrusion to return, but Master Malfoy merely chuckled and stood. 

"I think you'll make quite a lovely Apprentice, indeed," he murmured. Raising his voice, he continued, "I assume you did the advance reading I sent to you along with your contract. If you haven't, more fool you." He was pacing round Charlie again, robes forming black eddies in the air around them as he did. Charlie reverted his gaze to the floor so he could concentrate fully on the words, on his instructions. "Your recommendation and prior training..." his voice trailed off as though he were either choosing his words carefully or giving them extra weight, " _mitigated_ the reputation of your family and, indeed, of yourself as a former member of the Order of the Phoenix. Be assured: though I have taken apprentices in the past, I don't take them carelessly.

"You shall be required to do many things you may find enjoyable. You shall also be required to perform tasks you believe to be beyond the pale, so to speak. You will not be permitted to decline. Do you understand?" 

"Yes, sir." Charlie spoke clearly, as befit such a direct question. 

"Good. Stand." 

Charlie stood as gracefully as possible. 

"Present your wand arm." When Charlie stuck it out, Master Malfoy whispered an incantation; Charlie watched a thin stream of his own blood float through the air to what looked like a crystal cauldron. At a second whisper, the blood stopped, and Charlie's skin looked as though it had never been breached. He felt slightly dizzy, so he breathed in deeply. 

Master Malfoy barely gave him a glance, though he could not have missed the struggle happening before him. 

He met Charlie's eyes again, the red in them thicker now as he whispered the incantation a second time. Now blood flowed to the cauldron from his own arm, though less than had been extracted from Charlie. The loss of blood appeared not to affect him at all.

"Our blood is warm and mingled," he said. "It knows the purity of our intent as well as the purity of our hearts." He paused. "Intent is what matters more; it always is." 

Charlie nodded, voice stolen by awe. 

"The cauldron already held Strengthening Solution and Elixirs of Knowledge and Obedience," Master Malfoy said. "I shall be asking you three questions, and painting the runes for them strategically on your body. You shall drink the remaining potion, which will reinforce the strength of the bonds created by the runes." 

That feeling in the pit of Charlie's stomach might have been nausea, but it might have been eager anticipation. He wasn't sure. It was certainly a more involved rite than the one in which he had signed three years of his life away to studying with Master Svoboda. This was certain to be a more dangerous Apprenticeship, then. 

His skin and heart tingled; _they_ , a least, seemed to find the risk exhilarating. 

"This is your last chance to turn back, young Charlie, for an entire year," Master Malfoy said, locking his eyes to Charlie's and directing his consciousness into Charlie's eager, grasping brain. _Be sure that you will not regret this._

Charlie imagined himself laid out before his new Master, bound and vulnerable. _I will not,_ he thought fervently. 

Master Malfoy's laughter sounded both in the room and in his mind; it seemed to be all that existed. His next statement echoed the same way. "Then we shall begin. Do you, Charlie Weasley, accept Draco Malfoy as your Master for the purpose of formal Apprenticeship in the Dark Arts?" 

"I do, sir." Master Malfoy nodded before silently Summoning the potion and a thin, pointed paintbrush. Charlie moaned low in his throat as the potion made contact with his forehead for the first runes; since his lips never parted, it emerged as a strangled hum. He blushed from embarrassment at his reaction, but said nothing. Indeed, he needed to breathe extra-deeply in order to remained focussed on the present rather than on the sensation of his mind opening ever-wider to the caressing intrusion of his Master—

 _Yes, of course you must call me Master now._

Charlie suspected his face glowed with relief. 

"Do you, Charlie Weasley, grant me complete access to your self and your possessions, exempting me from all protective charms, including but not limited to Occlumency walls, amulets, and," he stroked Charlie's chest possessively, petting the muzzle of the dragon there, "tattoos?" 

Charlie whimpered. "Yes, Master, I do."

Draco pointed his wand at Charlie and turned it in a slow, wide spiral. Charlie felt as though his body had turned to stone, though his paralysis did not seem to extend through his neck and his lungs were still able to stutter. Draco Levitated him so he was lying prone before him, as though on a floating bier. He then took the paintbrush and painted a complicated series of runes above his heart. Charlie struggled not to drown in the compulsion to surrender that was being written onto his skin and his will; he needed to be able to meaningfully agree to the last requirement, or the contract between them would not allow his education to be absorbed. 

"And do you, Charlie Weasley, agree to study hard, perform the tasks assigned, accept gifts of Wisdom from your Master, and fulfil the obligations that accrue to the position of Apprentice to the best of your ability and magical power?"

Even as Charlie whispered, "I do, Master," he felt Master Malfoy gently lifting his cock to paint the final runes around his defoliated bollocks. He was glad, indeed, that whatever spell Master Malfoy had cast had rendered his motor functions impotent; that it had the same effect on his cock was all that kept him from embarrassing himself as the sensation of Dark Magic slipped over all his most sensitive bits. 

"Having accepted the terms of your apprenticeship, you have nothing more to do but drink the potion," Draco said as he stroked the brush up the underside of Charlie's cock. Charlie was sure he'd be writhing had he not been otherwise restrained. Master Malfoy's hand's motions were unbelievably precise as he painted a further runic decoration around the crown of the cock, the cock which Charlie was realising he'd given over to his Master for whatever use he wanted. He craned his neck upward to see his new Master. 

Master Draco Malfoy's hair was flying about his head, the unguent quality of Dark Magic keeping the static of magical power from creating an unkempt appearance; indeed, his locks writhed and hissed like snakes. His pupils were wide, and there were red sparks deep inside his eyes which almost overshadowed the churning swirls of grey and red in his irises. 

"As your Master in Dark Arts Education, I, Draco Malfoy, agree to honour your intelligence and magical power and extend the protection I afford myself from my enemies. I promise to share with you my wisdom and intellectual resources so you may grow in your knowledge of the Dark Arts. And I promise to provide for your physical needs as well as your educational needs for not less than one year. Our contract shall be renewed annually until such time as you, Charlie Weasley, are competent to sit a Mastery in the Dark Arts, or until one of us decides another year of apprenticeship will not suit our own needs.

"So Mote it Be." With a flourish, Master Malfoy made an elaborate design upon the length of Charlie's cock before placing the paintbrush beside the cauldron and raising his wand once more. " _Finite Incantatem,_ " he said. 

Charlie had no idea how it was that Master Malfoy had been able to cast while still managing to catch him at shoulder and hip to ease him back to a standing position. It spoke of enormous power. Charlie became aware of his cock, sticky with commingled blood and pre-come, bouncing up towards his belly. 

"Take. Drink," Master Malfoy said, raising the small crystal cauldron to Charlie's lips. 

Charlie drank. 

"Leave a little bit in your mouth," Master Malfoy said. "Your first assignment is to service my desires; I wish to see our blood on my cock." 

"Yes, Master." 

Charlie sank, once more, to his knees.


End file.
